Rosemary
by pigeonstatuecondundrum
Summary: HERBIDACIOUS PART 1 - Future reincarnation fic, The concequences of rescuing a hung over handsome stranger were greater than Merlin could have foreseen. A/M
1. one

**Rosemary**

**one**

The summer breeze blew leisurely wisps of cloud across the periwinkle sky, as if the cumulus was mildly curious and wanted a closer look at the mortal realm below. Even the sun seemed reluctant to leave the sky, then letting the moon watch the action. Somewhere a bird sang.

"This is what it's like to be about to die." Arthur thought groggily through the drugs that had both incapacitated him and stopped him from feeling the large bruise on his left cheek. His hysterical giggle was smothered by the paving stone and the puddle of his own sick he was lying in.

"My god are you okay."

Arthur tried to look up, but it hurt too much. He made a grunt that he hoped translated as 'go away'. He tried to move away from the soft hands that tried to lift him up.

"It's okay." The voice murmured "I've got you."

He squirmed as he felt the sick on his face (how did that get there?) being wipped away.

"…not..child…" he slurred, surprised at how ineffectual his voice sounded. He heard the smile in his unknown benefactors answer.

"You look a mess."

Arthur managed to look at him with his bloodshot eyes.

"What 'bout you… you're…unfocused…all three of you!"

He said this as if it was some personal insult.

He helped Arthur to stand, he seemed more steady now. Even so, he seemed to be doing a worthy impersonation of Bambi.

"I'm going to have to get you home." He said gently, helping Arthur take some awkward steps down the alley.

"Where do…?"

Arthur tripped into the stunned arms of his helper. Her groaned as his hangover threw aside all pride and buried his head into the stranger's chest.

Arthur felt a gentle chuckle shake through the others body. He took a long needy gulp of air, inhaling the strange herb like smell that seemed to radiate from the boy. He idly wondered that cosmetic companies would love to bottle that scent. His peculiar aftershave somewhat reminded him of his mother, how he....

"Arthur."

The stranger suddenly realized this was the blond's name, and he was expected to give his own.

"Merlin."

_._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._

The hallway Merlin had to wait in could have fitted his bedroom in his uncle's small bungalow in maybe twice.

He had delivered the hung over Arthur to his father's large penthouse. He couldn't shake the feeling he'd seen him before.

He winced as he heard more shouts coming from the study that couldn't have been help Arthur's headache. He'd been sent strait in there when they'd arrived with an apologetic smile and a 'wait here'.

Minutes later the door burst open and Arthur ran from the room, followed closely by his father's angry voice. Arthur didn't bother to even look at Merlin and run up the stairs. His only reply to his father's bellows was a relay of banged doors.

The owner of the voice poked his head round the door. With a face to place to Arthur's name Merlin realized who he was.

_._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._

Uther Pendragon was the owner of well respected company that build and designed weapons and building defences. Every terrorist conscience company worth its salt bought from Pendragon.

That was not the reason Merlin knew him. About a year ago the Pendragon Corporation had planned to build a testing area near Merlin's old town. The proposed area designated for this monstrosity was slap bang in the middle of the heath, no use to anyone surely. But the villagers in the know knew this was an ancient site. Old legends and wives tales listed it as high as the Glastonbury Tor and Stonehenge. It was home to a confused adolescent Merlin.

The company had, at first pretended to take their complaints seriously, but they only truly listened to the villagers when the murder happened. There had always been groups of ragged hippy wannabe witches, who lived on a diet of Harry Potter fantasies and heroin, in the town. During a stoned night in the heath they'd kidnapped one of the planning supervisors.

The newspapers gleefully showed the gory remains, taking close upon of the pentagrams and rune carved into flesh, hearing only the sound of there bank accounts increasing instead of the anguish of the victim's widow.

The testing centre was never built. Not a brick was laid. But still foundations were laid, the foundations of Uther Pendragon's hatred toward hippies and pagans, Wiccans and New Age-ist, or even anyone with weirdly died hair. They said he lost billions in the planning of the testing centre.

_._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._

And here was Merlin, the very epitome of everything Uthur Pendragon hated, standing in the doorway of his office.

Uther smiled "Please come in a minute, Merlin wasn't it?"

Merlin could barely nod, he took a shaking step into lions den.

_._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._

**My first Merlin fic so you don't have to be nice. Just tell me what you think.**


	2. two

**Rosemary**

**two**

"Please, sit."

The frightened warlock sat, like a rabbit cowering to the fox.

"I must thank you for helping my son." The smile was genuine, "he's had hard time since his sister left and he has found a most… unfortunate outlet for expressing himself."

Merlin nodded, unsure how to respond.

"You see it would be bad on my son if anyone else was to hear about this." He suddenly snapped into a disquieting businesslike manner.

"You haven't told anyone about this." I was a statement, not a question.

"No, no." Merlin stuttered "I took Arthur strait here."

Uther smiled warmly, his eyes stayed cold.

"Very wise. You see I'm worried about my son's future. He's bright enough to take over the company when I'm gone but for some reason he's not happy. I think perhaps he needs someone his own age to talk to now his sister has gone."

Uther gave a laugh. "I'm not worried about him for my own sake of course. True if compromising pictures of Arthur were featured in the newspapers it would reflect badly on my company. But, I'm more concerned as a father not a businessman."

"Why are you telling me this? I only happened to be in the right place at the right time." Merlin tried to disguise the note of panic in his voice.

"Don't you see, I want you to be that friend?" Uther smiled.

Merlin spluttered, in fear and confusion. "I'm sorry Mr. Pendragon but you've got the wrong guy."

He stood up and walked toward the door "Thank you for your offer but I don't think you're son and I would get on well.

"Merlin, unusual name isn't it."

Merlin paused at this unexpected conversational cueball. "Yes, it is." He murmured.

"What's you're surname."

Merlin's answer was a terrified whisper, "Emrys"

"Emrys," Uther repeated, rolling the word round his mouth like a tasty bait. "I'm sure you look familiar, I'm sure I've heard that name before."

He fixed the petrified Merlin with a grim stare "I'm sure if I thought about it, I would remember. Or if you give me a reason to."

Merlin couldn't reply, his mouth was dry.

"You and Arthur attend the same University." Uther carried on, Merlin's silence was all the agreement he needed.

"And I saw that you're in need of a flat."

Uther seemed to enjoy the way Merlin started. _He's read my file! _

"You live with your uncle, is that correct?"

Merlin only trusted himself to nod.

"Well I'm sure I can arrange for you to share Arthur's. It's far too big for only him."

Merlin was finally able to form a sentence. "Are you sure Arthur won't mind?" he almost pleaded.

""It's not his decision." Uther smiled dangerously.

_._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._

Merlin and Gaius staggered with Merlin's chest of draws to the young Pendragon's apartment. This particular bit of furniture had come with Merlin from Ealdor and now it was on the move again.

"Are you sure about this Merlin?" Gaius asked in, Merlin's irritability, sounded like the hundredth time.

"I don't have the luxury of choice." He sighed. Fumbling one handed in his hoodie pocket for the key for his new 'home'.

"Even Merlin had to admit the flat was impressive. There was an open plan sitting room kitchen thing, or whatever that was called in estate agent speak.

"At least your room has a lock; you don't want him walking in on you."

That was fortunate. Merlin really didn't want his new room mate to walk in on him practising the thing that was number one on his fathers hate list.

"At least it's a nice room." Merlin murmured.

Gaius snorted "You can keep a bird in a gilded cage; it's still a cage Merlin."

Merlin ran his fingers through his hair as they finally set the chest down under the widow sill. The late afternoon sun dappled the old oak, picking up shadows on the ornate Celtic patterns. Merlin ran his fingers subconsciously over his favourite, a dragon with eyes that seemed to stare right at you from the wooden carving.

"Perhaps he won't be like his father." Merlin said, trying to convince himself more than Gaius.

Gaius snorted again. He had visited them in Ealdor to help in the protest against the testing centre. He's been so worried about the effect on the magical community that he left his shop for nearly a fortnight. Gaius owned a little shop on one of the many winding back streets that sold herbal remedies. His uncle had been the reason Merlin had chosen to take up his course at the university on medieval medicine. He remembered fondly the holidays he'd spent getting under his uncle's feet in the shop.

"Please be careful Merlin. If Arthur was to find out about your powers…"

Merlin saw the worry in his uncle worn and lined face.

"I'll be careful." he promised softly.

_._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._


	3. three

**three**

"You're here then."

Merlin sat up us the sharpness of the voices annoyance broke his doze.

"Yep." He answered sitting up groggily.

His new room mate looked at him as if it was more than Merlin deserved to looked at like something unpleasant under his shoe.

"If you're expecting dinner you're wasting your time." He walked over to the fridge, throwing the word over his shoulder like a master throwing scrap to an unruly dog.

"I've eaten"

"That's okay," Merlin tried to smile at the hostile back Arthur was showing him.

Arthur ignored him as he removed a half empty wine bottle from the fridge. It a practised movement he removed the top and tipped it into his mouth.

"Um, it's only half three." Merlin protested weakly.

Arthur wiped the side of his mouth with a violent sweep of his sleeve; a movement probably performed more for effect.

"If you're going to live here we need to establish some rules." He took anther swig and leant against the table.

"You don't touch my stuff, or stop me from drinking. You're not the first lap dog my dads sent to try and stop me."

He walked strait passed Merlin, bottle firmly in hand. "And you won't be the first I've got rid of."

There was a door slamming and then, silence.

Something about Arthur performance meant that Merlin's hands didn't stop shaking as he made himself dinner.

He'd held onto the stupid hope that Arthur wouldn't be like that, he'd stupidly hoped that the venerable young man he'd rescued would not just exist in his mind. He ran nervous fingers through his hair, what had he got himself into.

_._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._

He told himself his reluctance to go back to the flat was nothing to do with Arthur. He'd stayed at Gaius' shop to help with the deliveries far past the usual time.

"You're the one who chose to stay with this boy; you'll have to deal with it." He'd snapped, annoyed at seeing Merlin's bored face everytime he turned round.

"What was I meant to do?" Merlin retorted "Uthur Pendragon knew how my mum was, what if he find out about the others. What if he finds out about Will?"

Gaius bit his lip and sighed. What could he say?

_._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._

Merlin shouldn't have dreaded being alone with Arthur. The sight that greeted him when he came to the front door was two men passed out on the doorstep, hugging an empty bottle of vodka like a teddy bear.

"What the..."

Merlin entered the flat. The noise was deafening. Music turned up to neighbours-will-call-the –police-for-noise-pollution volume, screaming half dressed girls, the raucous drunk laughter Merlin thought only existed in American buddy films. He walked I a daze over to his room.

He had made sure his room was lock when he left this morning. That didn't explain the man and the woman on his bed.

"What the …."

They ignored them and carried on.

"Hello Merlin wondered when you'd back."

Arthur's face was flushed, his eyes were glazed over, which Merlin wasn't sure was worse than the hostile glare from the evening before. He clutched a wine glass in his hand, the bottle in the other.

"What is going on?"

"I'm having a little party."

"Little," any one who wasn't in such an inebriated state as Arthur would have dawn a parallel between the thunder in Merlin's face to the flickering lights. "Do you know any of these people?"

Arthur shrugged.

"Who is going to clean up this mess?" Merlin was almost shouting louder than the partygoers.

"You are…"

They were interrupted when someone barged past them and puked in the corner. The two lovers on the bed finally broke apart for a moment to wrinkle their noses.

"That's it." Merlin snapped.

The lights burst. The wine glass in Arthurs hand burst and he blacked out.

_._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._


	4. four

**four**

Merlin had seen enough aftermaths of parties back home. He'd spent an infamously memorable day after Will's sixteenth birthday party, cleaning up enough smashed glasses, crumpled cans and soiled garments to last a life time, thank you very much. The birthday boy had spent the morning after puking in his room. Moaning about his head until an exasperated Merlin came back to bed and brought him a cup of tea. But this time it was an inebriated Arthur that lay on the sofa. Big difference.

Merlin had learnt that the best thing to do when confronted with a mess of this calibre was to not panic. At least he didn't have to explain to the homes owner what has happened this time. He collected the piles of lost jackets and skirts that the owners had somehow lost, he didn't want to think how with the latter. He amused himself by imagining what his mother would have said if he'd crawled back home at this ungodly hour, thanking his lucky stars he wasn't born to parents with more money than sense.

He dumped the garments into a cardboard box left over from his resent move, scrawling in irritated block capitals in red pen, LOST PROPERTY, WILL BE CHUCKED IF NOT CLAIMED. He had already cleaned most of the living room carpet and filled two black sacks full of dangerous broken glass when Arthur groaned.

Arthur opened his eyes slowly, then thought better of it and shut then quickly.

"Where's everybody…" he slurred like a comedy drunk.

"They left." Merlin said shortly, flinging a larger can into the sack with more force than was necessary.

"How…how?"

"There was no drink left."

Merlin wasn't about to tell him about the complex spell he'd cast that had evaporated every drop of alcohol on the premises.

"Oh. My hand…" he opened his eyes slightly to look at the bandages surrounding his hand.

"You must have squeezed the glass to hard." Merlin wouldn't look at Arthur when he said this, "you blacked out, and so I had to bandage your hand up."

"Oh."

He brought the bandage to his nose. it smelt weird he thought. Like that bitter sweet smell he remembered from their first meeting. Arthur buried his face in a cushion, trying to hide a rare blush at the memory.

Suddenly a wall of nausea hit Arthur like the proverbial brick wall. He vaguely heard his flat 'mate' mutter something in what sounded to him like gibberish and a slight cluttering from the kitchenette. Before he could heave the contents of his stomach onto the carpet a bucket of an eye assaulting shade of orange was quickly placed next to the sofa with a sigh.

"I feel awful." Arthur wined like a child. Merlin's only reply was to open a can of coke and pour it on a suspicious yellow stain.

"What's that for. You're supposed to clean this place, not make it worse." Arthur shouted, suddenly regretting it when his head complained.

"Coke on a urine stain gets the smell out." Merlin said shortly. He was slightly annoyed at his own abruptness. There was something about Arthur that rubbed him up the wrong way.

"You're the expert. For someone so cute you can be right grumpy." Arthur muttered, throwing himself back on the sofa with exaggerated tiredness. If Merlin heard that he didn't react.

Merlin repeated his question from the night before "Did you even who any of those people last night?"

Arthur didn't bother to look at Merlin; it gave him a perverse sort of satisfaction to go out of his way to be as rude to Merlin as possible. Somehow it felt like it was really his father he was insulting.

But there was something about Merlin he couldn't put his finger on. Something that made him feel ever so slightly guilty. Because the only other option was not even worth thinking about, it was unthinkable, not to mention embarrassing.

"Nope, more fun that way."

"It's more fun that way."

The cold fury in Merlin's voice made Arthur turn his head quickly. Ha shivered involuntary. Merlin's blue eyes burnt with almost golden glare, Arthur felt suddenly breathless. He finally felt detached from his thumping headache, not only that but the other gnawing background worries he refused to dwell on ceased to exist. His father, Morgana, the work he really needed to do to pass his business studies degree. Those eyes seemed to not only reflect Merlin's anger but also the long ignored truth that happiness was not to be found at the bottom of a bottle.

Merlin turned away, as if mortified by the unconscious power he had.

"Your welcome."

"I'm what" Arthur said, painfully acknowledging the return of his headache.

"I've just cleaned your flat and you haven't even noticed." He snapped.

"If I'm going to live here we need to establish some rules." Merlin flung Arthur words back at him like a slap, bending his fingers like claws to make livid quotation marks in the air.

"I didn't ask to live here. I certainly didn't ask to clean up your shit! The least you could do is drop the poor little rich boy act; you're fathers really worried about you!"

Arthur snorted "Worried 'bout me please. I'm making his oh so precious business look bad. I'm not a son; I'm just a company asset."

"God you're pathetic."

Whatever Arthur had expected to be Merlin's reply it wasn't that.

"Excuse me!"

"You heard me." Merlin wasn't shouting now, his voice was emphasised with enough fury to make volume negligible.

"You're the most pathetic attention seeking brat I've ever had the misfortune to meet. So Daddy won't pay you any attention. There's no point throwing your toys out of the pram to get it. It's probably the first time you've never got what you want first time." Merlin's voice was full of venom. Arthur was scared in spite of himself.

"I've got news for you Little Lord Fauntleroy; you think your worse off? I bet you've never had to work a day in your sorry life."

Merlin grabbed his backpack and threw it on his back like a Western gunslinger preparing for a fight.

"I pity you. Really I do."

Even if Arthur replied Merlin wouldn't have heard it as the door slammed as a parting gun shot. Arthur lay on the sofa for a long moment. There was no room in his head for all the headache, anger, self pity and guilt. Something had to be pushed out. He only just managed to grab the bucket before he vomited again.

_._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._

reveiws are love...


	5. five

**five **

**"There's rosemary, that's for remembrance." (Hamlet, iv. 5.) **

Even Arthur, as he emerged from the bath room half an hour latter, had to concede the place had looked a tip last night, even though last night had become as drunken blur. But then most of his Saturday nights where like that now days. That was the only thing Merlin was right about. He wasn't attention seeking, Arthur told himself firmly.

He shivered as he recalled the fire in Merlin's eyes, the almost beautiful rage that had left him speechless. _I've just cleaned your flat and you haven't even noticed. _He groaned, wanting nothing more than to lie on the sofa and feel sorry for himself. He deserved a day off surely, his head hurt! He'd just been insulted, by a complete nobody, who his own father was paying to life here. He'd been Sick! He was going to relax to day, let someone else sort the flat out. It wasn't his problem, really.

"_I've got news for you Little Lord Fauntleroy; you think your worse off? I bet you've never had to work a day in your sorry life."_

Arthur groaned again, a little bit more self pitying. A last ditch attempt. He wondered if the washing machine came with an instruction book.

_._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._

"I'm doing this to show him I'm not lazy." Arthur said firmly. It wasn't convincing him as much as he'd hoped, he'd said about three times in the last ten minutes.

"How do I get through so many clothes?" He muttered "and what the hell is 'dry clean only'?"

His deep musing was interrupted when he got to the smaller pile of clothes that had been discarded by his roommate. He tried not to concentrate on the disappointingly nondescript underwear but his mind was immediately taken by the T-shirt. A vague mist of a memory drifted like diaphanous smoke into the hangover fug of his mind. Just an alleyway, the taste of acid and wretchedness. Arthur looked at the brown shirt, the one Merlin had worn the day he'd found him that cold morning. He busied himself with the rest of the washing, trying to ignore the feelings that simple garment made him feeling. He put the T-shirt to one side.

Arthur picked it up. Like a child he held it to him. Burying his face in the comforting smell. Trying to hold onto the feeling of the arms that had filled the garment had filled him with. The woody fragrance reminded him of something. Something long ago that made him uncomfortable…

_The old oak table groaning under the weight of food. The festive table cloth hiding the glitter glue and poster paint stains form the childish art projects. Morgana in her high chair, squealing as her father tickles her. There are three men and one woman in the room. Cheep paper hats on there heads, cheeks red with wine and merriment. I'm bawling in my high chair. She's in front of me, feeding me mashed Swede. All the men in the room wishing it was their mouths she was shovelling the sweet vegetable into. And her husband, my uncle __Gorlois__ is watching them all like a hawk. Watching Morgana's father and my own. _

_She smells nice. She's been cooking all day. The smell of the turkey and stuffing surrounds her, complementing better that the most expensive Chanelle her husband bought her this year. _

"_Ingraine, come here my dear." __Gorlois wraps his arms round his wife. As if to prove who she belongs to. _

_I'm having none of it. I cry and reach out for her. She picks me up, balancing me on her hip like an expert as she offers more gravy to her guest. I bury my face in her long blond hair. Not unlike my own. She doesn't care as I wipe my drool on her velvet party dress._

"_Mummy." I say sleepily, but audibly. I'm too young to understand the guilty look that flows between my father and her. Can't understand the hurt in Gorlois' eyes. But I understand the mood has changed and I cry. __Ingraine hold me to her, like a fragile shield she knows won't save her from long…_

Arthur opens his eyes, shivering, a draft coming through an open widow, chilling him to the bone. He's confused, why did he remember that. He'd none about that Christmas party, but only by vague second hand accounts. He knew that weeks later his uncle was sent to the Falkland's. And never came back. He hadn't thought about his aunt for a long time. What had happened to her?

For the first time in nearly twenty years, all Arthur Pendragon wanted was his mummy.

_._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._

This one's for **Elnomin**. Hope she gets to read it before the choir leave for Gloucester. We're all really going to miss you loads. Must go to the cinema soon, Also for everyone else whose commented on my little Merlin ramble. Hope it's going to get better, But I've got to start packing.

Hugs and Prayers

Comments are love and... oh you know the drill. Reveiw me already.

GL42


	6. six

**six **

Merlin wouldn't have admitted he'd practised his look of indifference if Arthur talked to him, but he'd certainly given what he was going to do much thought. It had got to the point where Gaius had to push him out the shop door to stop him from moodily procrastinating. He dragged his feet, walking as slowly as possible home.

He glanced up at the dead apple tree next to the complex. It should be baring fruit by now if someone had bothered to care for it, he mused.

He climbed the stairs, gingerly would be the word. He'd expected to see Arthur still sprawled on the sofa in the middle of a filthy flat. Instead he smelt lamb, his mouth watering in anticipation. All thoughts of grabbing a pot noodle out the fridge and retreating to the 'privacy' of his room left his head.

"That smells good, how's your head." He asked quietly.

Arthur started, nearly dropping the spoon in the pot. "I didn't hear you come in. You don't have to look so surprised, I can cook you know."

Merlin said nothing, turning away to the fridge, having a sad sense of déjà vu.

"Sorry." Arthur muttered.

Merlin blinked in shock, thinking he would be pushing his luck if he asked for what, in the long list of past misdemeanours, he was apologising for.

He shrugged "Let me have some of that stew and I might forgive you."

They both smiled, lapsing into silence.

"I was wondering," Arthur suddenly burst out "have you got any herbs. For the meat I mean."

Merlin blinked in surprise.

"I know your uncle owns one of those sorts of shops so…"

"Sure." Merlin nodded, scurrying to his room to hide his puzzled expression. He opened one of the smaller drawers. Pausing to run his hand over the dragon. He picked some dry Rosemary sprigs, still tied in blue ribbon his mother had given him. He brought it back to Arthur, trying not to feel like a dog bringing sticks back to his master.

"Umm, what is it."

Merlin was still trying to fathom Arthur's sudden change in attitude. He was acting very meek and mild.

"Rosemary." Merlin murmured. He tried not to pull away when Arthur raised his hands cupping the herbs to his nose, the young Pendragon's lips inches from his fingers.

"Albus." His voice was barely a mice's whisper.

"Mmmm." Arthur hummed.

That's the name of the cultivation. It's Latin for…"

"White." Arthur replied, his breath tickling the sensitive skin in Merlin's palm. His nose was full of the pungent aroma, his head full of memories.

"Private schooled, remember." He gave a rue smile, having the good grace to look away. "Latin, twice a week."

Merlin crumpled some of the herbs into the stew, gently tugging his hand from Arthurs.

"It reminds me of my godmother." Arthur exclaim. Merlin couldn't work out where why Arthur was being so open with him. As if he was trying to make up for his earlier hostility.

"She used to like cooking." He explained, trying not to catch Merlin penetrating gaze.

"It's always been used for memory," Merlin stirred the stew absentmindedly, remembering sitting of Gaius' desk as his uncle tried to explain the various properties of the jars of herbs in his room.

"What, in magic spells?" Arthur muttered, shades of his old condescending attitude creeping back into his voice.

"There's nothing wrong with herbal remedies." Merlin said cautiously.

Arthur came up behind him and took the spoon from his hand. There skin brushing with the barest bats squeak of sexuality. "I'll finish it off." He said gently.

Merlin wandered to the balcony. The door still opens from last nights revels. He ran his over the tree branch, murmuring to himself as he did so.

_._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._

"Here"

Arthur turned to catch the round object flying towards him. Cricket training was useful for something then.

He stared at the apple in his hand. Merlin took a bite out of his own.

"Thanks, but where did you…"

"Oh, the tree outside." Merlin smiled.

"I thought that was a dead tree." Arthur said, confused.

Merlin shrugged, calling over his shoulder as he got the plates out of the cupboard. "Amazing what a little patience can do."

_._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._


	7. seven

**seven**

Arthur hated Merlin.

He hated the wonderful smell that uncontrollably loosened his mussels after a long day, which wafted round the flat when Merlin cooked. He hated the way Merlin didn't argue back when Arthur practically ordered him to do the washing up/cook/ clean his clothes/find his essays.

He hated the way he was positive he'd bought two bottles of wine but by the time he'd located the bottle opener, they seemed to be less in the bottle than he'd assumed.

He hated it when he accused Merlin of drinking his alcohol his flatmate just gave him and incredulous look, as if to say "how could have I have evaporated nearly two bottles of chardonnay".

He hated the sense of pride he felt when his lectures saw the work he handed in, without asking for an extension. He hated working so hard that he feel asleep on the sofa with a crick in his neck. He hated the memory of falling asleep on Merlin's jacket, soothed by the familiar aroma. He hated the look on Merlin's face when he saw the dribble marks the next morning.

He hated the way Merlin still had time, after all the chores, work and studying, to climb the 'dead' oak with no regard for his own safety. He hated the smile Merlin threw at him from the tallest branches, his bare feet poking through the foliage. He hated routine of throwing him one of those bittersweet apples as he left for college or work. He hated those apples too, come to think of it, they were just too… like Merlin.

He especially hated the times when Merlin caught him staring at him. He hated the feeling of guilt that flared when he saw Merlin carrying his washing, neatly folded, into his room. He hated the way that, however many times he told himself those ears really should be on a baby elephant not a grown man, he still couldn't deny…

_._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._

Arthur walked into Merlin's room. Not crept, Pendragon's didn't creep. If Merlin walked in he was… err… looking for dirty washing. He eye lighted on the chest of drawers in the corner. The midday sun illuminated the patterns and characters. The most striking was the dragon, its long scaly body curling round the side. Its tail surrounded the woman on the far left. Her long trailing hair and robe curled round the hilt of the large sword she was leaning on. below theses to were a lion and a unicorn. Around the draws there were symbols. The sort that Arthur knew his father would disapprove of.

He turned his head away, about to leave when he thought he heard a chuckle. It was a low deep bass, so he assumed someone else was in the house. He whirled round to check the doorway. Empty. Now on tenterhooks he left the room in a hurry, but not before glancing again at the chest. It was his imagination, he told himself firmly, that dragon's grin wasn't wider, and the woman wasn't looking disapprovingly at him.

_._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._

Merlin was up the tree, naturally. Arthur lent on the balcony watching the rustling of the leaves, every so often seeing a hand reach out a pluck an apple from the branch. He seemed to be muttering to himself.

"First sign of madness," Called Arthur, taking a satisfying crunch out of an apple Merlin had left on the table. "Talking to yourself."

"Only way I can be sure of intelligent conversation." came the reply. "Grab this will you."

Merlin passed Arthur a full basket full of fruit, noticing the suit Arthur was wearing.

"What's the suit in aid of. I assume you're not going down the pub."

Arthur rolled his eyes and licked the juice off his fingers before answering.

"I'm having dinner with my father to arrange my Birthday party. I'll be lucky if I get orange juice. What about you?"

Merlin appeared at the edge of the balcony, passing the last basket over the edge. "Work, probably. Only a month till the end of term, so I'll need the money." He said motioning to the delivery bag in the corner, full of various bottles.

"So why aren't you there now?"

Merlin shrugged. "Nothing wrong with a bit of fun now and then."

Arthur found himself reluctant to leave the balcony. He watched Merlin pick the last of the apples, a stray golden russet leaf swirling round his feet.

"Autumn soon." Merlin called. His face now visible as he tried to scrabble over the balcony. Arthur gripped his elbow and gave him a resolute tug. They tumbled onto the floor, a tangle of limbs on the flagstones. Arthur rolled his eyes trying to suppress a grin, a mirror of the one plastered on Merlin's face.

"Merlin."

"Mmm." He murmured somewhere else entirely, and Arthur wished he could join him. Merlin rested his head on Arthur's chest.

Why were those eyes so blue? Arthur gave Merlin's arm a friendly slap with one hand and lifted his chin up to his level with the other.

"It's cold. And I've got to go."

They both stood up stiffly. Arthur brushed imaginary dust from his suit and Merlin suddenly took an abnormal interest in the baskets of apples. He lifted one out and called to Arthur. Arthur had his hands ready to catch the fruit so Merlin surprised him.

He lifted the apple to his flatmates mouth, letting Arthur bite into the soft fruit. His eyes never leaving Merlin's unreadable expression, not even when his teeth and lips lightly brushed his juice soaked fingers. Arthur, with shaking hands, brought his hands up round the hand Merlin was holding the fruit in. The young warlock dropped the fruit into Arthur's palm, the bitten side laying face down on his palm like a particularly wet kiss.

"Go." Merlin said, his voice shattering the mood like a spell. Arthur stumbled out of the door, leaving Merlin trembling watching a half eaten apple collect dust on the floor.

_._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._

this ones for Yaz. though I bet she's not reading it.


	8. eight

**eight **

Merlin was sitting in the counter of Gaius' shop, swinging his legs to the beat of a just remembered school hymn, his eyes set on the pencil he was spinning in midair. This action enacted his first ever memory, his mother having brought his up to the city at the age of five. He remembered his mother's flustered excuses for the levitating writing implements and his uncle understanding smile and production of an ice lolly from the fridge.

As if on cue, Gaius entered from the back of the shop, just in time to see the pencil clatter guiltily to the floor. He slapped Merlin across the back of the head with a smile, it may have been playful but it hurt.

"No ice lolly now then." Merlin grinned, ducking before he received another push. The grinned at each other in guilty comradeship. Gaius never mentioned his past but his nephew always got the impression, in the way children innocently do, that Gaius may have done all the things he warned his nephew against and more beside.

Merlin's phone started to ring, the Buffy theme tune, much to Gaius' amusement. He scrambled to find it on the floor, answering on the seventh ring.

"Merlin?"

Merlin sighed, Arthur.

"Who else, what do you want me to get you now?"

The muffled voice on the other end sounded perplexed, "Nothing, I just wanted to give you directions for tonight."

"Tonight?"

"My party," a note of superior sarcasm entered his voice "Surely you hadn't forgotten."

"You've been worrying about nothing else. Why do I want directions to your party?"

He heard the dramatic eye role over the over side of the line. "Honestly Merlin, there a village somewhere missing their idiot. You're invited to my party obviously."

Merlin tried to find an answer to this statement that wasn't an unintelligible 'Whaaat?'

"As a guest?" he asked.

Definitely another eye role "No as the half time entertainment. Of course you idiot."

"Pratt," Merlin rejoined "You never said anything."

"Well I assumed you'd realise you were invited, you ignorant plebe."

Merlin bit his tongue, trying to ignore the amused look on his uncle's face.

"No you just assumed I'd assume, you…you … clotpole."

There was a silence long enough for Gaius to mouth 'clotpole'.

"Anyway," Arthur said superciliously "your to be there 7o'clock sharp, the party starts at half past." He reeled off the address, having to repeat it twice with a long suffering air for Merlin to write it down.

"Oh and another thing."

Merlin made no reply, still writing down the postcode.

"It's fancy dress, the themes medieval. See you at seven, idiot."

"Whaaat!" cried Merlin to a now silent phone.

He turned to Gaius. "He is the most proud selfish prattiest…clotpole in the whole of Camelot. He's the…"

Gaius cut him off, "You quite like him then."

Merlin gaped at his uncle, his tirade cut off. "No," he said slowly "I just called him a clotpole."

"What is a clotpole anyway?" He held up a hand to stop Merlin from answering. "So I assume you'll be out tonight?"

"I suppose I'll have to." Merlin moaned "But it's fancy dress, Medieval apparently."

The metaphorical light bulb seemed to go off in Gaius' face. "I might have something."

He whipped up the stairs at the back of the shop returning minutes latter.

"Here." He threw a bundle of cloth to Merlin who caught it clumsily. "I was going to throw it out."

Merlin expected to find something rank and moth eaten, but what he held was a simple bright blue tunic. It also smelt quite pleasant, like lavender moth balls.

"I must have worn that to a collage party." Gaius mused. "I'd wear a belt with it and dark trousers, perhaps that old brown jacket of your mothers been trying to throw out since you were sixteen."

Merlin smiled, he hadn't worn that jacket since Arthur had accidentally used it as a makeshift pillow in the run up to his exams.

"Gaius I don't know how too..."

"Go!" the elderly wizard laughed, pushing his nephew out the door. "And mind you don't stay up too late. Last time I went to one of Uthur Pendragon's parties I had the most horrendous hangover in the morning."

"Hang on, you and Arthur's dad…"

Gaius closed the door with a smile leaving Merlin and his question outside.


	9. nine

**nine**

Merlin's first thought on entering Uthur's house was that of entering a dragon's lair, which was ironic because that was the first thing he saw as he entered.

It wasn't a real dragon obviously. Most of them had died out during the Industrial Revolution. This one was a model; it glittered like a large exotic butterfly. It was so alive that Merlin was so scared to touch it.

Instead he inclined his head, feeling a bit silly at the act of respect that was pretty redundant of an inanimate object.

_._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._

Arthur knew he would have hated to be one of those knights in legend. The armour he was fighting to put on was heavy enough without being made of steel like it would have been in those days. It had been made by his father's company, some sort of light weight Kevlar and the accompanying 'chain mail' was probably made of the same material as paper clips. He was wearing a long thin red shirt under all this; he prayed his father hadn't ordered those flaming candelabras to go on the walls.

Arthur struggled to pull the armour over his head. His curses muffled and began to condensate into the light weight metal he heard a laugh that made his struggle, with his dignity this time, to get the bally thing on.

His head emerged and he composed his features, trying to look stern in the face of Merlin amusement.

"I'm glad I came now." Merlin snickered, trying to save the image of Arthur red face, struggling to say something.

"Well you didn't have to." Arthur snapped.

"I wasn't going too." Merlin was too much in a good mood to get too involved in an argument. "Who made the Dragon in the entrance hall? It's fantastic."

Arthur smiled ruefully "Morgana."

"It looks like it's made of brass pins and pans." Merlin enthused, Arthur got the impression that his roommate was checking out his costume.

"It is. Well mostly smashed up Mariah Carey and Leona Lewis CDs she's smashed up."

"Best place for them."

They lapsed into momentary silence.

"When's everyone else arriving?" Merlin asked, tugging at the edge of his tunic, Arthurs eyes followed his hands. The simple garment suited him, that blue with his eyes was just…

Arthur shook himself. Not tonight. "Soon. I hope you don't mind coming early. There are usually loads of photographers at events like this." he waved his hand as if he dealt with the paparazzi all the time, which, Merlin supposed he did. "I didn't think the world was prepared for your ugly mug on the front page of the Sun."

"Better than yours on page 3." Merlin retorted.

He knelt on one knee, suddenly, fixing Arthur with a piecing stare. Despite himself, Arthurs pulse raced against his imagination, both functions edging the other on to embarrassing daydreams.

"Arthur."

"Mmmm." Arthur didn't trust himself to say anything more intelligent.

"Have you got any scissors?" He asked his expression oblivious to Arthur's awkwardness.

"Scissors?" Arthur asked, his brain still having trouble working with more than one word sentences.

"You know the sharp metal things that cut. Most people have heard of them." He tugged at the hem of Arthur's shirt. "Did you borrow this shirt off your Gran?"

Arthur found the scissors; Merlin wondered why Arthur's fingers were shaking.

He neatly cut the material up to Arthurs waist, trying not to let his fingers slip and touch the others waist, they both flinched the first time, hurrying to apologise and look in the other direction.

"That's a good job." Arthur murmured, Merlin looked up, surprised at the compliment.

"My mum is probably the best seamstress in the town." The archaic word sounded perfectly normal coming from Merlin.

"Do you knit as well?" Arthur smirked; he was unsure what to do with his hands. With Merlin's face so close to his tightening nether regions; he knew what he'd like to do…

"You laugh, but you haven't sen your birthday present…" Merlin said, his body shaking unexpectantly with laughter. Arthur grabbed his shoulder to steady himself.

Merlin looked up at Arthur with those wide pools of light in surprise but made no comment. Arthurs hand was there to stay, the fingers splayed from firmly on the shoulder blade to the tentative brush on his neck

"There." he held up the material, his voice as light as the cloth passing through his fingers. Arthur offered his hand to pull his friend up.

Whether it was by accident or an act of a sympathetic God Merlin tripped. He fell towards Arthur's arm and exasperated expression.

"Sometimes I think your falling on purpose." Arthur muttered. His other hand now wrapped round Merlin's waist.

Merlin hesitantly brought his face forward, lowering his voice as if he himself was embarrassed by his words.

"Falling on you, or for you."

"Merlin, this isn't…"

"Am I interrupting." came a voice from the door.

They sprung apart, more shock with themselves than angry at the intruder.

"Morgana..."

She had trouble getting though the door from the size of her dress. The long trailing style still suited her. Morgana smiled at Merlin. He knew her, didn't he?

"What do want?" Arthur snapped, his head was confused, still stuck in the moment with Merlin.

"Your father was looking for you." Morgana still was smiling at Merlin, as if they were having a private conversation.

"Tell him I'll be there in a minute."

Morgana ignored him and floated over to Merlin. She took his hand, her eyes flashing gold into Merlin's. Memories flowed between them, to fast to compute. But Merlin understood the emotion. She was sorry for something, that she was going to do thing differently this time around.

She grinned at Arthur, infuriating him further in the only way a sister could.

"Nice jacket Merlin." She commented, walking out the room leaving an open mouthed Arthur and Merlin.

"Do you know her?" Arthur turned to Merlin, on the brink of anger.

"No." he laughed, things falling in to place. "Is she your sister?"

"Half sister." Arthur corrected picking up the red material from the floor, "Merlin, come here."

Merlin did, suspiciously. Arthur reached out his hand and touched Merlin's face, letting his fingers slide down his neck. He wrapped the material round Merlin's neck, letting the ends trail down.

"Can we talk latter?"

Arthur nodded curtly "Why?"

Merlin opened his mouth then closed it, watching there reflections in the mirror. The red in Arthur's shirt and the red in his new neckchief complemented each other.

"Like two sides of the same coin…"

"What."

Merlin shook himself. "Nothing, I want to give you my present later that's all."

_._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._

There you go… please comment. The comments I got last time, well….. Wow! Everything's snowballed so fantastically. So God bless you all.

Tinkerty tonk

GL42


	10. ten

**ten **

It hadn't been Arthur's idea for a fancy dress party. The last fancy dress party he'd been to was at the age of five. Some well meaning aunt had dressed him up in a hideous rabbit costume, sending him too a friend's house with a large present and a quivering bottom lip. But once he'd got there and seen all the other children, most in even worse costumes than him, he'd cheered up immensely and eaten far to much jelly and ice cream and had been copiously sick.

Seventeen years later things really hadn't changed, but this time he had Merlin. He was leaning against the banisters, Arthur wasn't sure if Merlin was watching him hob nob with his peers and equals, but it was a nice feeling. He grinned over at the young man over the head of the pretty blond supermodel; Merlin returned the grin, nodding at the women. Leering, in a way that Arthur supposed was supposed to imitate him. Arthur had to stifle his laugh.

Merlin was happy just watching, holding silent wordless conversations with Arthur. Part of him knew he should be jealous watching Arthur turn on the charm, but he wasn't. In these moments he really didn't think they did need to 'talk' later. They'd barely known each other for a month but it felt as they'd known each other for a life time, but not this life time.... Merlin shook his head, of course they did, but he'd been fooled before. If Arthur really was who everyone thought he was perhaps...this time...

Morgana looked up and caught Merlin's eye, perhaps catching the confusion of his mind. She made towards him but someone got there first.

"Merlin Emrys, please to finally meet you."

Merlin stepped back from the bright smile and hand extended for him to shake, the long fingernails reminding him an animals blooded claws.

"Err...sure, please to meat you too miss..."

"Yasmina, please, Yasmina Perry-Bentley. You must be Arthur's new flatmate."

It was a statement not a question; Merlin cast his mind back, wondering where he'd seen that name before.

"Have we met before?"

She laughed and shook her head, Merlin half expected him to ruffle his hair. "No! So tell me, does Arthur snore, we're all dying to know."

"How should I know?" he searched the crowd for Arthur, Morgana having gone AWOL on the way to rescue him. But his knight in shining armour was in an intent discussion with a man Merlin had seen, only just recently, accepting the Nobel peace prize.

"Oh come on Merlin." Yasmina smiled predatorily "its okay, you can tell me! Everyone in the office thinks its wonderful Arthurs finally found a partner and you..."

"Hang on." Merlin snapped. "Arthur isn't gay!"

"Of course not, officially." She winked conspiratorial, he eyes unquestionably full of hunger for a good story.

"But it's obvious you and him."

"Miss Perry-Bentley."

They both looked up at Morgana. She had a bag of Doritos in one hand, a bowl of Guacamole in the other. She looked like she'd want nothing better than to smash the bowl over Yasmina's head.

She squeezed Merlin's hand, reacting to the startled rabbit look in his eyes.

"Still looking for rumours for that rag of yours?"

Yasmina puffed herself up like a cobra, a cobra with sickly sweet venom.

"The News of the…"

"Whatever," Morgana dismissed her and turned to Merlin, "Thought you might want to try some of this."

But the journalist hadn't finished, "I hope you enjoyed yourself travelling, Miss Pendragon. Your brother must have missed you?"

Morgana clenched her fist and Yasmina smiled even sweeter "Poor thing, he has had such a hard time recently, all the rumours of alcoholism and the like in the papers it so…"

"And who started the rumours?" Morgana hissed.

Merlin had to physically hold Morgana back. "_Don't rise to her_." He thought pleadingly. She nodded, she'd heard.

Yasmina laughed, and to the casual observer you would have thought she was the witch, "You both must be such a disappointment to Uther Pendragon, a Gypsy daughter and a son that can't stop hitting the bottle and on other men…"

Merlin dropped the seer's hand suddenly, her palms had suddenly got hot and a spark had nearly ignited his cuff.

He ran after her as she ran through the door to the entrance hall. Before he'd caught up someone grabbed him from the dark corner. Merlin whirled round, half expecting it to be the journalist. He found himself inches from Arthur's face. He'd been close enough all the time and seen the whole thing.

"I heard."

Merlin bit his lip, "is it true?" he blurted without thinking. "Sorry that isn't polite, I meant..."

"It doesn't matter to me what they think."

Merlin nodded, "Good."

Arthur smiled and tried to lighten the mood. "Be careful with Morgana. She set fire to my phone once."

Merlin's eyebrows went skyward. "She set fire…"

"Yeah, well not really. She was shouting at me down the line and at that moment it must have short circuited, that was the only explanation anyway. Nearly burnt my hand."

Merlin filed this away in the bulging draw in the forefront of his mind titled 'things to ask Morgana later'.

"This 'talk'," Arthur started, but Merlin interrupted with a light finger on his lip. It was strange how that bare inch of skin made his hopes soar.

"I'll come and find you."

Arthur nodded. "Sometimes it feels…" he shook his head in frustration of not finding the right words.

"It sometimes feels like I know what you're going to say or do or think the split second before you do. Like I've known you all my life."

"No," Merlin murmured "Like I've known you for a lifetime I can't remember."

From the balcony Morgana watched Merlin squeeze Arthurs hand and slide out the door, waving to her. Arthur's eyes watched him go, the azure depths unreadable and unsure.

_._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._

You know the drill, review pretty please. I'll add the next chapter quicker...


	11. eleven

**eleven**

Morgana was sitting cross legged on the balcony, the dress rolled up to show the jeans she had on underneath, and her shoes discarded on the floor like an untidy Cinderella.

She offered the packed of Doritos to him, polishing off one herself in one truly unladylike manner.

"Did you really set fire to Arthur's phone?" Merlin asked without preamble, sitting next to her with his back against wall to watch the rest of the party.

Morgana laughed, "I'd forgotten about that."

Merlin dunked his chip in the sauce and took a tentative bite. He grinned up at her.

"That's proper Mexican Guacamole, spent a month living above the shop of a couple that owned the most amazing restaurant. They paid me in food and sleeping space for teaching their kids English."

"It's amazing." Merlin said simply, swallowing his third chip.

"Do you find you have to eat more food when you use magic?" It was a casual question, but Merlin could tell Morgana loved to talk and share her experiences. He finally realized why the first Morgana must have gone wrong, with no one to confide her fears too.

"Why do you think I'm so skinny?"

The both laughed at that.

"I used to eat those horrid pork pies during my early teens," Morgana said, relaxing against the wall, "You know the one that have more fat in them than the equivalent weight of lard."

"Is that when you discovered your powers?"

Morgana sighed, "When I was three I had to stay in my room for fighting with Arthur as punishment, there were fireworks in the garden. I remember desperately wishing I could see them, leaning out of my window just to catch a glimpse."

A shudder ran through her, Merlin watched as she lifted up the plait of her long black hair to reveal a horrid pink scar running from her hair line to the nape of her neck.

"They say I was lucky to have survived. My whole room burnt down."

She took a juddering fearful breath, lost in her haunting memories of clean hospitals and the smell of surgeons masks; Merlin took her hand and gave it a reassuring squeeze, and Morgana returned the gesture.

"The dreams I had were comforting then, I remembered all the good day of Camelot."

She grinned at Merlin, her eyes full of the friendship and warmth of built up many lifetimes ago.

"I was friend with you before we even met."

"I was thirteen when I realised, I suppose. I was in an art lesson. It was one of those days where the heat seems to lengthen the day and you can never find shade. We were doing still life; the teacher was sitting in the corner, hogging the electric fan, while we poor students had to draw some mangy apples and a cracked vase. I don't know who was wilting more the students or the flowers."

Morgana chewed the Guacamole slowly before continuing. "I fell asleep. I must have only been out for a moment but the teacher realized and shouted my name. I sat up suddenly and the first thing I saw was the vase. It shattered, covering one girl in the browning geraniums and the teacher in the messy remains of the orange. I remember just sitting there; while all hell broke lose around me, with the most amazing feeling of calm.

"When I got home I locked myself in my room and went on the internet. I trailed any site that I could find. It took me days to find anything useful. Conspiracy theory nuts, weird pagan rituals, scientific research, you name it, it I read it. I finally found this old woman who was living in a caravan in the New forest. We got talking. I told her everything and even she couldn't work out what was wrong. Then I mentioned the dreams and it must have clicked for her. That must have been the first time I heard the name 'Morgan le Fay'.

"So when I finished my A levels I went traveling. I stayed with Maori tribes, Aborigines, American Indians. They somehow knew how I was before I did."

Merlin nodded, "What that journalist said about you being a gypsy?"

Morgana sighed "I lived in a caravan with these group of… well; I suppose you'd call them 'new age' now. But they were really Druids. It was the same woman; Mary Collins was her name, the one that told me who I was. The leader was a man called Aglain, he taught me so much. They wouldn't let me pay for a thing."

Morgana closed her eyes and smiled, "There was this boy, barely a baby. But he had the most beautiful eyes that made him seem older."

"What was his name?" Merlin asked softly.

Morgana shook her heard, "I won't tell you, sorry."

Merlin was taken aback but didn't want to show it.

"Well his mother had just left him there; he was barely three so I sort of adopted him. I've never…" she stopped herself sternly.

"Don't tell Arthur this."

"Why would I?"

"I would still be there if someone hadn't reported them for trespassing. Arthur had told the police I was there when they raided the camp. Mary and Aglain are still in prison, it was lucky I could stop Uther from charging them with my kidnapping. But the newspapers got hold of the story and never forgotten it."

"And the boy?" Merlin asked uncertainly.

"Well he was never picked up by social services like the others, so I don't know. Perhaps his mother took him back." Morgana snorted to show how very much she doubted this.

"If Arthur knew what he'd done, I think…"

"Morgana!"

They both looked up, shocked at the real word so loudly and exuberantly touching their tense little bubble. The seer's face broke into a huge grin though when she saw the person who'd called her name.

"Gwen!"

The pretty dark haired girl was wearing a simple lilac dress under a well word denim jacket, which made Merlin's own brown leather one look brand new. She had precariously leant two travel cases on Morgana's Dragon, dropping them to embrace her best friend.

"Merlin, this is Gwen," she called to the warlock from the foot of the stairs. Merlin had to smother the one urge that wanted him to throw himself at the girl for a hug and the other to bow to her.

"Pleased to met you." _Again,_ he added silently.

"You too." Gwen had a thoughtful expression on her face, as if trying to remember where she'd seen the dark haired boy before. The affectionate tableau was ruined by the shouting from the door way.

Arthur entered the room, followed by the incorrigible Yasmina Perry-Bentley.

Gwen rolled her eyes at Merlin; she'd obviously met the woman.

"But Arthur, please." The journalist wined.

"Get out!"

Merlin wanted to go to Arthur and hold him, but fear held him in place on top of the stairs.

"You heard him." Morgana snapped.

Before anyone could say anything else, Arthur was out a door leading to what looked like the outside garden. Yasmina was about to make a move to follow when Merlin shouted down to her.

"Don't you think you've made enough trouble?"

She simpered, "The public has the right to…"

Smash. The bowl crashed down on the woman perfectly styled hair. Merlin was about to congratulate Morgana when he saw the actual perpetrator had been Queen Guinevere.

"Good shot Gwen." Morgana clapped her hands together in childish glee. "We'd better move her."

Merlin came down the stairs to help but Gwen shook her head, "I think Arthur needs you."

This statement surprised the three of them, Gwen the most. Merlin nodded and left them too it, going through the door Arthur had just entered.

_._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._

I'm quite proud of this chapter (but you might have a different opinion, reveiw?) it was meant to go at the end of ten, but it got so long that it had to be seperate. Thanks to Yas (Perry the Platapus) fotr letting me use her name. she's not like that in real life.

Toodle pip, God Bless

Song for the moment : Kitty Jay - Seth Lakeman

Mood - loved up.


	12. twelve

**twelve **

Till the day he died Merlin would never forget the sight that met him through the door. Every sense tingled and registered the effortless perfection.

He'd been right in thinking the door lead to a court yard. The west wing of Camelot house was on his right, some sort ornamental garden on his left. On both sides two staircases lead up to the house, in the middle stood the most beautiful fountain.

A classical stone knight stood, on the plinth, his lance pointing at the Griffin, wounded by its feet. The creature mouth was open in horror, water streaming from it into the basin bellow. The knight was looking out over the garden, as if admiring the fragrant roses. The twilight made him look as if he was just about to step from his pedestal and take an evening stroll.

But Merlin's eyes were drawn to the other side of the edifice. The man was so still and dark it was as if he was part of the statue. His armour was dumped on the gravel, his shoes balanced on the rim of the basin, the laces trailing like weeds over the edge.

If Merlin had doubted who Arthur was before, there was no question now.

"Hic jacet Arthurus, Rex quondam, Rexque futures" Merlin murmured. He never thought his heart could sing out to the other as it was about to break.

Arthur turned suddenly, his profile suddenly hit by the waxing moon. He really didn't know what to say; as Merlin advanced tentatively he let his bare foot stroke down the stone into the water bellow. They never spoke, never lost eye contact.

Arthur took a deep breath. He felt hypersensitive of everything, of how precious everything was, how real it all suddenly seemed. Even inhaling and exhaling, seemed so precious in its simplicity. He could wax lyrical for hours, comparing Merlin to a painting he couldn't touch, foods he'd only seen in dreams, but it seemed, well… a bit soppy.

Arthur nearly lost his footing and nearly fell in, only catching himself at the last minute. Merlin laughed at Arthur's expression.

"Do you want your present now?"

Arthur smiled down at Merlin, watching the ripples his friend was making as his dipped his fingers into the pool.

"You haven't knitted me a jumper, have you?" he asked, if only to hear Merlin laugh again.

"No."

He reached into his pocket and drew something from their depths. The gift was without wrapping paper, bows or frippery. It just sat in Merlin's cupped palm. It was stone dragon; its blue skin glinted mischievously in the moonlight, as the object knew something that Arthur didn't. A tiny sword was grasped in its hands.

Arthur reached for it like and impatient child. Whether it was the moonlight, the moment or Merlin, Arthur felt a something stir inside him when his hand brushed it. His eyes abruptly met Merlin's, their breaths condensation in the air together in the cold night air.

"It's…" Arthur didn't have the words to say what he meant.

Merlin nodded, he knew, he'd felt it too.

"Where did you get it?"

Merlin shrugged, trying not to make a big deal, "I've had it a while."

"Merlin if it's precious." Common sense dictated he should give it back but his heart screamed no.

Merlin pushed it back. "It's yours, it's always been yours, I think."

Arthur nodded. "This talk… I mean. What did you want to say?"

Merlin looked deeply thoughtful for a moment, before bursting into laughter, "You know I have no idea what I wanted to say."

Arthur shook his head, exasperated; his ran his thumb absentmindedly over the stone sword of his gift. There where marks on it that could be words, he reminded himself to have a closer look later.

"You really are an idiot Merlin."

"Better than a Prat." Merlin rejoined cheerfully.

"Yeah, but I'm a rich Prat." Arthur grinned, letting his other bare foot rest on the edge of the basin, where Merlin was sitting.

"So"

"I think I liked you better when you had nothing to say."

"At least I have something to say, you Clot…"

Merlin was suddenly cut short; Arthur had lent forward, his fingers fumbling for the edge of Merlin's shirt to pull him nearer. This action would have been very romantic if Arthur hadn't lost his footing and fell in the fountain, with a very unmanly squeal. When he finally emerged red faced and spluttering he saw Merlin doubled up on the gravel in hysterics.

"That was not," he gasped breathless "that was not…funny, ok, I'm really wet."

Arthur reached out to him and drew him nearer, Merlin giggles evaporated immediately. Arthur kissed him, wrapping his wet arms round Merlin neck. Drips of moisture travelled down Merlin's neck, collecting in his neckchief. Arthur pulled the cloth away with wet cool fingers, the water making Merlin shiver against him. Merlin quivered like a plucked string, his hands entwined in Arthur's drenched cold hair, his lips entwined in Arthur's hot ones. A cry slid involuntarily from his lips.

Arthur broke away, wresting his forehead against Merlin's, eyes closed, lips parted in a silent sigh of contentment.

He then sneezed, explosively.

"Arthur!" Merlin scrabbled away from him in mock horror. "Diseased." He made a mock cross sign with his fingers, hiding round the back of the fountain.

"Whose fault is that?" Cried Arthur leaping up to grab his…lover?

"You fell in!" Merlin ducked and stuck his tongue out, dancing round Arthur, who stopped to sneeze again.

He splashed Merlin, who somehow managed to duck that as well. Was it normal, the warlock mused, to kiss a man you've loved since, what feels like, the dark ages only have a water fight with him?

"I wouldn't have it any other way."

"Me too." Arthur finally grabbed him.

"I'm not kissing you." Merlin said, pressing his face into the sensitive part of Arthur neck.

"Excuse me."

"Go and get changed. You'll freeze to death otherwise."

"Come with me." Arthur whispered, he was suddenly overtaken by the fear that the moment he left the courtyard all this would disappear.

"I'll wait for you at home. Yeah?"

Arthur murmured something, only just realizing how cold he would be without Merlin.

"What's that?" Merlin asked, playing with a strand of wet hair.

"I've waited far too long."

Merlin smiled, and stepped lightly away. "I'll see you at home."

_._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._

Morgana was leaning against the door frame. Merlin stared incredulous.

"Did… did you see all that!"

She grinned "Nah, saw it all in last night's dream."

Before Merlin could reply she passed him a phone, "I've run you a taxi. See you tomorrow."

She left Merlin blinking on the foot of the stairs, but still grinning.


	13. thirteen

**thirteen **

Uthur finally found Arthur in his room. His son's wet clothes were discarded in a heap on the carpet. Arthur dropped the towel he'd been rubbing over his hair, in surprise in seeing his father.

"Father? Sorry I was just..."

"Morgana told me you were up here."

Arthur nodded, nervously smiling, "Well, yes I am."

"Are you alright?" something in Arthurs behaviour made him pause.

"Yes, fine." Arthur smiled brightly, much too brightly, _why does he have to take a notice in me now! _"Why did you want to see me?"

Uthur sat down and looked closely at his son, he'd changed. His face was flushed and he could have sworn Arthur had been grinning as he came in.

"Everyone was wondering where you'd gone. I thought perhaps you and Emrys..."

"Merlin's gone home."

Urthur raised his eyebrows.

"Headache, I think."

Then Uthur did something Arthur had'nt seen him do apart from in dim recolections of when his mother was alive. Uther smiled, it was genuine smile of amusement.

"You get on with him, don't you?"

"He's alright." _I don't want to have this talk with my father…_

"Hmmm, he's from Ealdor, did you know that?"

Arthur looked visible shaken, "He never talks about home," he paused the truth hitting home "He doesn't talk much at all, really."

"Does that matter to you?" Uthur watched his sons face carefully. The idea of putting the two boys together had been unorthodox admittedly, one that had astounded even himself, if truth be told.

"No."

The tone of Arthur's answer wasn't sure, a few doubts colouring his tone.

"It's not my place too..." Uthur stopped collecting his thoughts. Arthur was sure this was the first time he'd ever seen his father at least pretending to be a hundred percent sure of himself.

"Just be careful, please Arthur." He reached out and took his hand, and Arthur let him, out of shock more than anything.

"I barely knew your mother." Uther aid suddenly, throwing his son strange conversational curveball.

"We were at this college party held by one of the lecturers. I heard this startled cry and I saw this woman pour water over the head of the physics professors. We got talking and she was so… I'd given speeches to the student union; I'd debated heatedly with my lecturers. But five minutes with your mother." He shook his head with a wan smile.

Arthur stared at his father smiling face; he'd never heard his father talk about his mother, learning about her from sketchy memories and second hand accounts.

"I turned to Tristan to ask him her name, and I'll never forget what he said."

Uther turned his eyes to his lap, his face drawn; Arthur realized what it meant for his father to share this with him.

"He said 'That's the woman I'm going to marry.'"

Arthur bit his lip, another bad trait he'd inherited from Merlin, "Father… I mean Dad…I didn't…"

Uther shook his apology aside with a regal wave, back to his usual self,

"I'm only telling you this so you don't make the same mistakes I did."

Uther sat up stiffly, nodding at his son sitting pensively on the bed. He paused a second, unsure if he'd done the right thing.

"I'm proud of you."

Arthur look up, his eyes wide, as if this was the most startling revelation of the night. After all the adolescent arguments and battles over alcohol and his school work, the thought that his father was _proud_ of him had never crossed his mind.

"Thanks."

_._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._

Arthur had a slight headache when he got in the flat door. Metaphorical indigestion from all the food for thought.

"Merlin." He whispered, the shadows looking threatening in the wee hours of the morning.

"Are you there?"

He stuck his head round the door of Merlin's room, his shirt trailing from his hand. The cool night air felt wonderful on his feverish chest. Her grabbed an apple from the bowl, and bit into it, the sweet juice perfect after the wine he'd drunk that night. Arthur thought back last time he'd come in late after a party, perhaps his father was right he had changed.

The room was empty, the only occupant was the moonlight eliminating the wooden chest. He stared for a moment at the symbols and characters, his father voice coming back to him _'he's from Ealdor, did you know that?'_

If Merlin was willing to hide a simple fact like that then surely…

He shook his head, feeling the same guilty sense of déjà vu he'd felt all those weeks ago.

Arthur turned his back on the room when he heard that same low chuckle. He barely had time to react to this, _it came from the room, surely, is Merlin hiding someone. _When he heard another voice, higher, more feminine, shush the first. There was silence for a moment, stretching out like the shadows, nothing stirred.

As he left the room the shadows seemed to shift across the wood, as if the woman on the chest was shaking her head disparagingly at the dragon, which seemed to smile at an unspoken joke. And even the lion seemed to flick his tail in annoyance. Only the unicorn seemed unaffected by these allusions, staying still and perfectly calm in the mischievous moonlight.

_._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._

Arthur found Merlin in his room. He was curled up in a foetal position on Arthur's bed. He looked so venerable and peaceful in the half darkness that Arthur couldn't believe his father's warnings. Leaving his half eaten apple on the bedside table, He sat on the edge of the bed, surprised to find that his room looked far too big for one person, as Morgana had commented before she'd gone away. He absently stroked Merlin's arm as his sleeping lover breathed rhythmically in and out.

Merlin awoke slowly, blinking at the bright moonlight that seemed, to Arthur in any case, to perversely glow gold.

"Must have dropped off there."

Arthur laughed and squeezed his hand, "You think."

"What else was I supposed to do, its…" it cheeked the glowing hands of the alarm clock, "two in the morning?"

Arthur just smiled and kissed him softly. More because he could than he wanted too. Merlin wrapped his arms round Arthur and held him close, the warm fug of sleep still a blanket round his brain.

"What took you so long?"

Arthur smiled at the unintentional double meaning.

"My father wanted to see me."

"Mmm." Merlin lay on his side, looking up at his lover.

"You never told me you were from Ealdor."

Merlin turned away, biting his lip, "No, no… I suppose I didn't. Does it matter?"

"I don't think so," Arthur hated himself for having this conversation now; it was too early to tell if their relationship was strong enough to stand this inquisition.

"But that's not the point."

"So you want to know every detail of my life. I'm not that interesting." Merlin was grinning now, deciding that laughing it off was the easiest way to deal with this.

Rain started to beat against the window, distracting them both for a moment. Droplets threw themselves at the window like frustrated hands.

Arthur closed his eyes for a moment trying to find the words, even against the drumming fingers against the window pane all he could hear was Merlin's rhythmic breathing.

"I just know there are things that you haven't told me. Important things that I don't want to know but…" he ran his fingers up from chin to cheekbone, slowly exploring lips on the way.

"I would trust you with my life, and that scares me."

Merlin nodded, watching the rain weep down the window in the reflection in Arthurs blue eyes, burning with honesty.

"Okay, you want the truth?"

Arthur nodded. Merlin snuggled into him, looking up at him with a hint of fear in his blue orbs.

"You're going to…"

Merlin nodded, "Yep. Might as well."

"Well, don't get angry, but… you snore."

Arthur just groaned and hit Merlin with the pillow. "You," he said punctuating each word with a direct hit, "are, a, complete..."

Merlin kissed him to protect himself from the onslaught. Would he have to tell Arthur soon, how much had Uther guessed? He thought of the last time he'd been in this position, how different he'd felt. Slowly he was aware of the rain abating. He smiled.

_._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._

Morgana sat up in bed with a jolt, staring fearfully at Gwen who had just come in.

"We're going to Ealdor." She said calmly, before sinking back into her pillow.

_._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._

Ende sylfum weogorna - boðen

End of first part - Rosemary

_._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._

Well, I _say, _that's your lot…. I kid. I hope I can get the sequel up soon but I've been so busy lately (that's why this part is so late…)

A HUGE thank you to everyone who's reviewed and taken time to read my ramblings, I could have done this without you, (My god, I'm turning into Kate Winslet!)

So tell me what you think, of this chapter, the whole story, what you think will happen in **Thyme, **any criticisms, your favourite ice cream…, anything!

God bless

Ttfn

GL42


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